


there's a light that never goes out

by redrocketracer



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Based off canon events, Child Abuse, Depression, Eating Disorders, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, High School AU, Jealousy, Loneliness, M/M, Medication, Mental Illness, Pining, Self Harm, Suicide Attempts, Vent fanfiction, and now there are lasers shooting from my eyes, hospitalizations, kind of, main pairing is crenny, major venting fanfiction, mentions of abuse, mentions of non con, non con, starts of in canon events, super powers, told in second person - Freeform, tweek and kenny end up being friends kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:42:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6497659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redrocketracer/pseuds/redrocketracer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You tell yourself you'll give him the silent treatment and ignore him until the end of time. But then he's sitting next to you and you see his tiny, thin wrists. The hospital bracelet looks far too big on him. He looks tiny in general. You take a good stare at him. It's the first time since you were in elementary school that you both looked each other in the eyes. And his face appears sunken in, thin. His eyes are dark, dark, dark, dark. They always were. But there is something missing from them. </p>
<p>You remember what he said to you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>I always feel alone.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> it just feels really good to get these emotions out. this is broken into two because i wanted to get some of this up before i left to go to see zootopia again tonight. it's a good movie, go see it.

You don't like him at first.

  
Craig Tucker is kind of a dick, he pushes people around and is a bully. You think that throughout kindergarten to fourth grade. You two seldom talk, really. You just see him around, he's kind of dumb. He can't ever come up with good comebacks when confronted. He denies flipping people off, and you question if he really doesn't know. You think he's an idiot. Or at least this is your initial thought of him.

 

Craig asks you one day if you can help him with a project. You look at his big, creepy, dark eyes. The ones that are so dark that you almost think they're black. You want to say no, but you remember Eric Cartman laughing in your face and telling you that you can't be apart of his news team. Being bitter, you shake hands with Craig and agree to film animals close up with a wide angle lens with him.

 

You expect to have a lousy time. Expect that maybe Craig will end up killing you at the end of it or something. You're always dying, you can't comprehend why. It's an unexplained mystery that no one but yourself is really aware of. Whenever you bring it up to anyone they laugh and you feel your heart pounding in your ears, your face heating up, tears welling up in your eyes. No one believes you.

 

The weight of your feet crunches the snow beneath them. You raise your hand to knock on the door of the Tucker residence. Craig answers and he lead you to his backyard where a little orange cat is laying on the back porch. Craig is gingerly holding a camcorder in his hands, and you know it's going to be a long day.

 

“So what? We're just going to film this dumb cat?” you ask, and Craig ignores you at first as he begins to try to find an angle to film the cat at. Her eyes are closed, and she's purring. You run your hand through her fur.

 

You see Craig struggling to find a good angle, and you roll your eyes. You've been around the girls too much to know the best angle is from the top. Craig seems like the type of guy to take selfies in that unflattering angle that makes everyone look like they have a double chin.

 

“just, come on.” you say. You go behind Craig and put your hands under his armpits, lifting him to stand. He looks over his shoulder and throws you a nasty look, raising a middle finger. You let out a sigh.

 

“Just. Everything looks cuter from the top. Trust me, that's why girls look so cute on facebook. Maybe try a wide lens, too. There you go. Like that, Tucker.” you say, leading Craig to what would be the beginning of their success.

 

“Thanks.” he mumbles. And you sit down on one of he lawn chairs, watching him. You're the quiet one. You notice more. Kyle has the book smarts, but you analyze everyone and know more about others than people think. You watch how into it Craig gets. The cat opens her eyes and meows at him. When he's done filming her he crouches down to pet her. She springs up and nudges into his hand, purring. You notice the smile adorning his features and you think it's kind of nice. You never see Craig smile. At least not for any reason than someone else's despair. Maybe you don't know him that well.

 

The night proceeds with the two of you leaving the house to find neighborhood dogs and cats to film. When they're done they go back to the Tucker residence and you film Craig's guinea pig stripes, and call it a night.

 

The next day you come over again and Craig's done a lot of revision and put it all on tape. You sit down on the floor next to him as he puts the tape in. Craig watches the video with Stripes in his hands, smoothing down her fur. It's weird. You've noticed some things about him yesterday. About how most animals seem to adore him. How he can get a barking dog to be putty. How Craig is so fascinated and in love with these small creatures. You think maybe he appreciates those small lives, and you begin to think maybe he isn't so bad.

 

The movie comes to a close and you let out a yawn. It's cute, you guess. But you can't imagine this selling.

 

“Well?” Craig questions. You look at his big brown eyes and you almost feel guilty about what you're about to say, almost.

 

“It was. Uh. It sucked man, I mean it was cute...but it needs more.” you say, muffled through the confines of your parka. Craig seems to understand, though. And he stands, putting Stripes back in his cage that was rested on the couch behind them.

 

“Like what?” he questions, nasal. You watch as he pulls out a cough drop from his pocket, unraveling the wrapper. He pops it into his mouth and it gives you an idea.

 

“Have any cough syrup?”

 

And the rest is history.

 

The whole thing ends kind of bad, but you both make it out of it alive. And that means a lot to you, considering you're always dying. You and Craig work on Animals Close up for about another month after the whole ordeal, and you discover he's pretty chill. You're not too in risk of death around him, because he's pretty plain, boring. And you like it.

  
*

 

You go back to your old group, but you and Craig are still really good friends. You hang out on the low key, and it's always really safe. You both play with stripes and popcorn, Craig's cat. You watch cartoons, and it's pretty laid back. You meet Craig's sister Ruby, and you introduce her to Karen. They become really good friends. All is safe and well, and when you go on a field trip to some pioneer village you hold each other's hands.

 

“No, i'm partners with Craig!” Cartman doesn't question it.

 

All is good until it's not.

 

A week after you're stuck in peru. You're a bit divided between your main crew and Craig. He acts like you two aren't even friends and groups you in with the other three. You don't really know why it hurts, but it does. He's a lot more sharper tongued than usual and you wonder how long he held these resentments towards you and your friends.

 

“I fucking hate Craig!” you shout. In the end you all get shipped home, discovering that Craig was apart of some Peruvian prophecy and saving the world. It kind of helps explain why he doesn't look like the rest of his family, You knew why already, remember a conversation you two had once, where Craig mentioned that he had a different father. You don't think much of it at first, but you always wondered if you were adopted or if your mom fooled around with someone else. Your hair is so shockingly bright and looks a little different from the rest of his family. It was kind of comforting, Craig telling him what he did.

 

The two of you don't talk for a few days after that. You are silently upset but don't let it show. Craig just kind of drops off the face of the planet. You try not to dwell on it. It's whatever. Until you go to drop off Karen at the Tucker residence, and Ruby answers the door.

 

Ruby and Karen gang up on you, but instead of talking about how you and Craig are supposed to be friends or some dramatic shit, it's more Ruby's concern.

 

“It's really fucking scary Kenny!” Ruby says, she has her arms folded and her eyes dart to the stairs.

 

“He won't come out and it's so quiet. Can you check on him?” she questions. You feel kind of guilty because you and your friends kind of dragged Craig into it.

  
“Uh...” you say, dumb founded. Karen is holding Ruby's hand and you remember the pioneer village.

 

“Please?” Karen asks, and you can't say no to that. You turn in the direction of the stairs and stomp up them until you're in front of Craig's room. You turn the handle to his door and push in. What you find isn't pretty.

 

“Woah, man!” you scream out. In front of you is Craig. His back is arched up and little wisps of blue light are pouring from his eyes. They're not the lasers, just some kind of weird light. It curls around Craig's arms and torso. You can see that where the light twists around him that his skin is raw and red, his clothes ripped. You immediately close the distance between the two of you.

 

“what the fuck what the fuck” You say, quivering and dropping down to your knees to level with him. No words escape from the other males parted lips and you can feel your heart pounding in your ears.

 

Is he stuck like this? Is this temporary? The aftermath of what happened a few days ago? What the fuck? All these thoughts dart around your mind and you look around in a panic. Trying to find an off switch, something to turn off the lights around Craig. You even try using the light switch in Craig's room to no avail.

 

“Oh god oh fuck.” you say. You don't know what to do, you die all the time but it doesn't mean you're some expert in the super natural. Scared, you grab onto Craig's hands. The light that hits your skin hurts, it's not burning your flesh off, but it can if you're under it too long. You interlace your fingers and let out shallow breaths. You close your eyes and just feel Craig's skin in yours. It's raw and gross. But you don't care. You stand there holding that hand for a long time, until the night falls. Your feet hurt and you want to leave. You don't notice it until hours after, but the lights power starts to dim. And as soon as you're about to let go, you feel him squeeze back.

 

You look up and Craig blinks. It turns off the lights for a few seconds, before his eyes open again and it instantly begins to curl around him. He closes them one final time and when he opens his eyes, they're off. Coughs escape Craig's lips, his hands reach up to his head.

 

“Kenny...? what happened?” he asks. And you feel so relieved. You wrap your arms around him and don't say a word.

 

He pats your back, eventually letting out a hiss at the feeling of his raw skin being touched. You call an ambulance and Craig gets shipped off to the hospital. No one says anything about it because it's South Park and stranger things have happened. But you feel closer to Craig now. You die all the time, and he has this laser thing going on. You don't tell him yet.

 

You guys maintain your on the lowkey friendship. You have a new girlfriend, and while you talk and know a lot about sex from your brother and dad, you're kind of a loser. After suffering through having a purity ring she gives you a blow job, and you die. Was it worth it? Yes. You always liked the idea of sex, and now you had experience with it. It kind of sucked that you died from it, but it's whatever this time. You'll be more careful.

 

A week after you come home to your sister face down on her bed. Her hair is ratty and messy, and she's crying. You love your sister. You sit down on the floor next to the mattress in her room.

 

“Karen?” you ask. She sniffles and you rest a hand on her shoulder.

 

“They...they hit me again.” she says. And you have a sinking feeling in your body. You retreat your hand, not knowing if it's a good idea to touch her.

 

“Karen...” it's rare that your mother and father hit you and your siblings, they usually just go at each other. However, sometimes in your fathers drunken state he'll swing blindly and end up hitting Kevin or Karen or yourself.

 

You want to defend them because those are you're parents. They're just not right at this moment. It'll get better. There are moments where you feel their love. This is what you say to yourself all the time. They love you guys. Maybe they do, but you always feel horribly abandoned.

 

You aren't, you have Karen and Kevin. But when it's just you in your room you stare at the cracks in the ceiling and wish that your mom could braid Karen's hair every morning. You wish that you didn't have to make your own lunch every morning. You wish that when you came home your mom wasn't asleep, that your dad wasn't at the bar. That you didn't have to stay up all night to their yelling.

 

You're shaking. From fear, but also anger. You kiss Karen good night and tell her you love her. But you then go into your room, and get to work.

 

*

 

You're mysterion, and you save the city. It goes well, you're respected and loved. You die and die and die to save people. It hurts and you're exhausted and you sometimes wish someone would remember. At first you fight crime by yourself. It's all going swimmingly. You go home to Karen and knock some sense into your parents. It's great.

 

Until fat ass wants to know you're identity. Kyle isn't the first to know, though. You're sitting on Craig's back porch with Popcorn on your lap. He's playing around with his lasers, shooting down a can. You still haven't told him of your deaths, but you want to. You don't know how he'd react.

 

“Hey Craig?” you say, muffled. Craig looks at you briefly, usual brown eyes a shocking electric blue. They calmly mute back into their dark browns, and you find it oddly fascinating. He's training himself, trying to contain and learn how to use his power. It's weird, it's not like it'll ever come in handy.

 

“Yeah?” he asks, you look down at popcorn who is a purring, sleeping little ball of orange.

 

“Have you heard of mysterion?” Craig lets out a scoff at that and in you know him well enough to know that means yes. He's shooting another can down now, and you go on with what you want to say.

 

“What if I told you I was him?” The lasers shoot back into his head and he automatically grips onto it.

 

“Fuck ow.” Craig says. You give him a few moments until he's looking at you. His eyes are watery and puffy, red.

 

“Are you joking?” you shake your head, no, not taking your blues off of him. Craig head tilts, looking you over for sign of humor, you guess he's satisfied with what he finds because he he shrugs.

 

“Ok.” he says. It's not some over dramatic, fanatic reaction. You weren't expecting one, Craig hasn't said much about the whole mysterion thing while everyone was ranting and raving anyways. You assumed he didn't care. You throw a rock at one of the cans set up, and Craig shoots down another one.

 

When your identity is discovered everyone in school is shocked and up your ass. Except Craig.

 

*

 

Coon and friends is Cartmans bright idea. You comply, though. This is when things begin to take a turn for the worse. Before coon and friends rises your deaths were average. But then in one incident you get run over while trying to protect someone—Kyle? And while Stan screams out “Oh my god, you killed Kenny.” Kyle yells “you bastards!” You know you'll wake up in your bed and he won't remember and it fucking sucks. It _hurt_. And he doesn't remember it at all. No one ever does.

 

It has always hurt, it always fucking sucked. But lately it's starting to dawn on you how...lonely this all is. You try to explain it again to your friends. You try and try and Kyle tells you “It'd be pretty cool.”

 

You snap.

 

Youf fists are clenched and your face is heated. Your heart is pounding and you feel something inside of you trying to claw it's way out. You shoot yourself and wake up in your bed.

 

You cry.

  
You cry and cry until your face fucking burns from it. You take shallow breathes as you stumble your way to the Tucker residence. The gun you used to Kill yourself is in your pocket. It's one of the first times you ever died by your own hands. And you wonder if maybe if in some sick turn of events that if you kept trying you'd succeed.

 

You wearily lift your hand to the door and knock on the surface. Craig answers and you pull the gun out, letting it drop between you two.

 

“What if I told you you've seen me die so many fucking times, Craig?” he doesn't respond. He takes your hand in his and leads you to his back yard, sits you down on one of the lawn chairs. Popcorn comes out from the corner and hops on your lap. You look down at her through tear filled eyes. It's quiet, and you feel warmth in your hands. It's not just Craig's body heat, blue light, similar to the one that Kenny saw that one day, is coming from his eyes. They curl around his neck, his torso, his arms, and their hands. It's not stinging this time though, it's comforting. You squeeze Craig's hand.

 

And you explain.

 

You tell Craig about how you're cursed. About how you die all the time. About how you've met Satan. You explain hell and heaven in all it's intricate details. You explain your most painful deaths. How you killed yourself. You cry through all of it.

 

He listens, sucks it all up. And you feel relieved. You feel so warm, and that light never sucks up back into Craig's eyes. You feel so much less alone, less scared. You stop crying. You finish, and his thumb is running circles into your hand.

 

You look at him, but he's not looking at you, his eyes are up at the clouds. You look up with him.

 

“I believe you.” he says. Snow begins to come down and Popcorn lets out a loud meow. The white puffs begin to hit the surface of their warm faces. The light pouring from Craig is just that, light, no heat. It's a trick he's learned.

 

He looks at you now and you looks at him. You stare into those crazy, electric blue eyes.

 

“I mean...there are lasers. Coming from my eyes. It's a crazy world. Why shouldn't I believe that?” there is a pause and he grins, ugly, crooked teeth.

 

“Plus, things are always blurry. Like the time we saw Red Racer, the live action movie. The parts after the blue racer shows up is so...black” and you scoff at that, because you accidentally choked on a popcorn kernel and died.

 

The two of you go back inside and the lights turn off in Craig's eyes. You follow Craig up to his room and watch Terrance and Phillip.

 

After the events of the Coon and friends, you puts his costume in retirement for awhile.

 

Things go pretty ok after that, some silly, crazy things happen. There is a chart of the boys penis' sizes, a few rumors spread, some drama with Stan. But then things kind of turn sour for a little bit.

 

You're watching tv with your brothers and sisters. Mom and dad are fighting, we're just trying to drown out the sound of it. It's normal, as normal as it gets in this household. Until you see your house on the tv. It all quickly spirals down hill. You, Karen and Kevin are put in foster care. It's scary and again you feel that weird, lonely feeling. You hold onto Karen and she cries into your arms.

  
Your foster parents are nice. But you wish that you're parents could just straighten up.

 

The kids at your new school pick on Karen and you bring out the mysterion outfit again. You protect her, you make sure she will be ok. No one fucks with the Mccormicks. You're her guardian angel, and you even ensure that Kevin doesn't get made fun of. He's always been a bit slower with his speech, which is not his fault. But it causes him to be a victim of bullying.

 

You keep in touch with Kyle and Stan. But you lay in bed and you feel horrible. You blink and tears escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks. You've been angry, you've been scared and you've even been sad. But nothing like this. It's a deep, in your bones sadness. You miss Craig's light.

 

Eventually you find yourself back in South Park. But some weird damage is done.

 

A month or two later things continue on. You discover that you like dressing up as a princess, there is a new game you and your friends play, other things happen. A new principle comes along, things in the town change, they're building fancy restaurants by your house. You have a job at City Wok that you can buy Karen nice things with.

 

She smiles so wide. And that gives you some hope for her.

 

Your smile falters, when a few days later, Tweek enters your life.

 

You have nothing against Tweek.

 

You just don't like him with Craig.

 

It's rumored that he and Craig are a couple and you don't know why it makes you look at the ground and make your face heat up. The other guys know you two are kind of friends but they don't know how close you are so they don't think there is anything going on between you two. You don't think so either, you're just friends. And Craig sometimes says stuff like how he's going to get all the chicks. And you roll your eyes because he's such a dork.

 

You try not to think anything of it, that is until it's confirmed and they hold hands and shit. You two haven't really spent too much time together recently. After you came home from foster care he did hold you for a few hours, Craig's light wrapping you up in warmth. But you didn't know if Craig and Tweek are a couple. And you guess you feel bad because you think you should have. But now it's confirmed.

 

You stand in front of his door and you feel weird. Like you're out of breathe, you feel sick. But you raise your hand to knock and it's Thomas, Craig's dad who answers. He's always liked you and he lets you in. Craig is playing video games with Tweek and you sit next to Craig and pick up the third player remote.

 

“Why didn't you tell me you guys were going out?” It's not like Tweek would know how close they were. He probably is confused as to why you're here. You want to push him off the couch so it's just you and Craig. You doubt he really even knows Craig that well. But you control yourself.

 

“We're not.” Craig says, he pauses his game. You look at him and Tweek continues smashing some poor kid into the ground.

 

“it's all fake...we're really good friends now...but. We don't feel that way about each other. We just saw how sad it was making everyone.” you feel odd about that. When does Craig _ever_ care what anyone thinks? You feel like there is more to it, but you feel uncomfortable talking in front of Tweek.

 

The three of you awkwardly play your game and when Tweek leaves it's just you and him.

 

“So, since when does the almighty Craig Tucker care what the town thinks?” Craig throws his game controller to the ground, letting out a sigh. He stands and makes his way to his room.

 

“I mean Tweek's cool.” you lie. You hate him. You don't even know why, but you do.

 

“But you're not the type of person i'd ever think would pretend to like someone for reputation.” you follow him up the stairs, your face is red and your fist is clenched. But you're containing it. Your breathing is shallow.

 

“That's not the Craig I know.” and he's pulling the covers over his frame and your sick of being ignored, you yank them off.

 

“I felt alone, ok?” he admits, you can tell he's trying to keep himself composed but it sounds broken. Fuck, what is this shit. You guys are kids. You're not even sure what he means by that. You're not even sure of what you feel half of the time.

 

“My dad told me he liked the gay me.” he's sitting up and his eyes are turning into that electric blue, the lights are pouring from his eyes as if it's a substitute for tears.

 

“We just. We don't say shit like that. He meant it. He liked the gay me. I always feel alone. I felt less so. I felt connected when he said that.” the lights turn off and those big eyes are shielded.

 

“Please leave.” Craig demands. And you do.

 

You want to say that's crazy and you think Craig is full of shit.

 

But you get it more than anything.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok let me start with saying that this fanfiction was primarily written to vent. A lot of the feelings and things written in this chapter are from my own experiences and feelings. i tried really hard to keep everything ic and i'm sorry if it's not. I hope i don't make an ass out of myself, these are just my experiences. 
> 
> Mental illness is not cute, funny, pretty, beautiful, lovely or anything like that. It is dark and scary and lonely. I'd never wish anything i've ever experienced with depression, ptsd or bpd on ANYONE EVER. AND if you ever feel like you need help please, i beg, get the help.

You two don't talk for awhile after that.

 

You're a bit relieved to know Craig and Tweek's relationship is a sham, but you still feel like you're going to melt into the ground whenever they're around. You always have to look away, down at the floor. Your face red. Cartman sometimes points it out.

 

“Why so red Kenneh? I think he's embarrassed about his ugly shoes!” Cartman mocks. And you're grateful, for once, about being poor. Because you don't know if you could handle them making fun of you because of the feelings you have that you don't really understand. It's weird. You get what Craig said, but you...don't. Like you feel a deep connection inside of your bones, but you can't really explain why you do. You feel like you should be angry, bitter. But you're not.

 

Fourth grade eventually ends. Fifth grade comes and goes with lots of crazy events happening. Craig and Tweek are still together through out all of it. At the end of the fifth grade year, your mom and dad get into a fist fight and you watch as Kevin steps between them.

 

“S-stop! Stop!” he screams. You're holding Karen close to your body and she's crying, dampening your shirt.

 

“Stop. Mom, dad, please. This is enough.” it's slurred and slow but they do stop. Their fighting has been crazy lately. Mom is always knocked out cold, and dad is always drinking. And when they're together they're both left with bruises.

 

“L-look at what you're doing. Karen is scared. Kenny is depressed.” and you look down at the sleeves shielding your arms, which are littered with deep, deep scars. You killed yourself again. It was a one time incident. But you were sad and scared and upset and you _needed_ Craig's light and he wasn't there and fuck. When you wake up again you contemplate swallowing down the pills you see mom always taking. You close your eyes, take a deep breathe and tell yourself you are strong. You don't need them. You don't need Craig's light. You don't need your parents affection. Fuck everyone. You can take care of yourself. Your eyes open again. You are left with ugly raised scars. But they're from a war.

 

“And I couldn't read until a few months ago. I couldn't even read. Mom, dad. I couldn't read and i'm 13 years old. Do'ya know how much I get bullied? How much of a idiot I feel like?” he's pushing them apart. They look at each other. They look at Kevin. Stuart's hesitates before his hand rests on Kevin's head and he smooths down his hair.

 

“I...I'm sorry, boy.” it's not enough. But it's a start. They don't fight for the rest of that night. They don't fight the night after. Or the one after that. It progressively gets better.

 

There are rough patches. There are dark nights where a fist is raised. But mom signs herself into rehab. And dad just quits, cold turkey. They'll probably never be able to leave the poo dung town that is South Park. But the environment feels less...horrible. Damage is done. But they're trying, they're trying so hard. There is so much torn, though. You feel so destroyed. And it's not being rebuilt...it's more, just stabilized. Some wet bandaged put on the surface.

 

But it's enough for now.

 

There is a calm.

 

You enter middle school slightly broken. But you're quiet, and you smile. You smile and smile and smile. You have Stan and Kyle and even fat ass. It's a distraction from the in your bones sadness you feel. You watch how in middle school North Park and South Park gets mixed together. How all the social groups divide. Craig and Tweek come out as liars and are just now apart of the same clique. You eyeball them and want back in Craig's life.

 

You don't get back in though.

 

You go through middle school laughing and being a bit of a joke. You joke about sex, joke about having sex. You're a bit cruel and gross. You hit on pretty girls. But you're still a virgin, despite popular belief.

 

You flunk most of your classes. You day dream, you drift off. You pretend you're a princess in a far away land. You pretend there is a better world. You pretend you don't exist. You're tired of existing. You wish you could fall asleep and never wake up to this world again.

 

But you smile.

 

You smile, you never cry. Sometimes you die. But tears never fall anymore. It feels impossible and you feel dry of them.

 

You graduate middle school feeling worn down. You just want to sleep. And you feel alone. So alone. You can't explain this alone-ness. Everyone loves you. You're Kenny Mccormick. Your family is a lot more stable, not as bad as it was. You guys sit on the couch every night and watch cable. You actually have cable now, isn't that great? But you're alone. You'll always be alone. How could anyone ever love someone like you? you're horrible. You're white trash. You're a liar. No one is genuine. No one remembers. The only person who does hates you.

 

The summer before high school you try to overdose on your mothers anti depressants.

 

Normally you wake up in your bed, but instead you wake up in a white room. White walls, white sheets. This isn't heaven? You look to your left and you see clouds. A nice, sunny day. It's July, right? The summer of South Park. You close your eyes, not wanting to look at it. The sky will still be bright without you. The sun with still shine, the birds will still chirp. This isn't fiction, this is real life, Kenneth Mccormick. The world does not pity you. The world remains the same when you finally die one last time. You tell yourself this and pull the blankets over your head.

 

You end up in a psychiatric hospital in North Park.

 

You're surprised when Craig's there.

 

You think about him a lot. Bitterly, angrily. He left you. He left you all alone. _**FUCK HIM**_.

 

You tell yourself you'll give him the silent treatment and ignore him until the end of time. But then he's sitting next to you and you see his tiny, thin wrists. The hospital bracelet looks far too big on him. He looks tiny in general. You take a good stare at him. It's the first time since you were in elementary school that you both looked each other in the eyes. And his face appears sunken in, thin. His eyes are dark, dark, dark, dark. They always were. But there is something missing from them.

 

You remember what he said to you.

 

_I always feel alone._

 

You two don't say a word to each other. You notice he only is eating oatmeal. But he's picking at it.

 

“please eat.” you say. You look down at your bacon and eggs and hash browns and milk. He still picks. And you know it's not your battle. Your battle is not Craig's either. But maybe you can both be soldiers together, and stick by each other in here until the war is won.

 

You put an apple you weren't even going to eat on his tray. He blinks, looking at it. Rolls it over in his hands, before stuffing it in his pocket.

  
Group therapy is horrible. You barely pay attention. You want to go back to your room and sleep. Days pass, you wonder why your family isn't complaining about money. You want to get out. You're still so tired. But when you have a family session you laugh.

 

“It was a dumb mistake.” you say. But it wasn't, it was intentional. You knew you couldn't get high off prozac. But you lie and say you didn't know. It's written off and you get your discharge date, tomorrow. You go back to the day room where you see Craig drawing on the back of a coloring page. He's really good at drawing, this has to be a recent development though. Because you never saw him hold a colored pencil with the intent to really create before.

 

 

In front of him is a torso. A human torso with a heart coming out of the chest. It reminds you of that video on facebook of the little girl that was born with her heart poking out of her, shielded by skin. You watch Craig draw. You watch him focus intently on it. His eyes are blue instead of brown. And you almost tell Craig to try to contain it, because the people here probably don't know of the supernatural.

 

He's gained a bit of weight, and you almost feel guilty about what you're going to say.

 

“I'm leaving tomorrow.” he looks up at you and his eyes instantly turn back to brown in a snap. They roam your countenance, looking for some kind of lie.

 

“you're leaving.” he says. It's not a question, more of a statement. You nod.

 

“Yeah” he is still staring at you. Eyes focused into your blues. His own start to turn light, into those electrics. He takes a hold of your hand.

 

“are you ready?” his eyes are still clearly blue, and you feel like he'll know if you lie. You look away, because you don't have it in you to tell the truth.

 

“Yeah, i'm fine.” you say. You want the warmth of his light, which Craig usually provided when the two of you held hands. But he retreats.

 

“Ok.”

 

*

 

You go back to school and Craig has AP classes while you're in remedial. You sleep during most of your classes, and you start to skip by the middle of the year. You're still pretty innocent, you don't do drugs or smoke. You find it insulting to do because of your parents. However, you do present yourself as cool. You're always laid back, relaxed. The epitome of chill. You keep quiet, don't get involved in much. You watch. You examine. But your heart is hammering in your chest. You're insides are clawing to be outside.

 

You and Craig don't hang out like you did in elementary school, but sometimes you guys go out in group setting. It's like he can feel your emotions because when you're sitting in Stan's shed he'll take his index finger and gingerly run it down the length of your arm. His eyes will be blue, but only you pay that much attention. You can feel the warmth against your skin. He interlaces his fingers with yours and you close your eyes in the comfort.

 

It's like old times. And this happens whenever you're around each other. In Stan's sheds, parties, class. No one notices, and if they do they don't say anything. You guys don't ever dare say a word to each other outside of your hand holding. It's a secret. Your secret, unspoken. It's like that until sophmore year when Cartman points it out.

 

“aw man, you guys are holding each others hand! I knew Craig was a fag, but Kenneh??” He says, laughing. Craig doesn't let go, but you do. You stand and leave the room because you don't really like being laughed at. You pull a cigarette from your pocket. You seldom smoke, but somehow you feel like you need one.

 

“Does it bother you?” you turn your head to look at Craig who is closing the door behind him. He sits next to you on the lawn chair in his back yard. Their group was at the Tucker residence. You look out at the black that is Craig's back yard. You wonder what happened to popcorn.

 

“What?” you ask, playing dumb. Craig doesn't respond. He towers over you. Tall and thin. So thin. You wonder if he's eating but you don't dare ask.

  
It's quiet and you two sit there in that pocket of silence. You know something is broken between you, but you don't know what it is. Eventually you snub out your cigarette and Craig stands to leave. Your body is screaming out you to tell him to stop, to grab his arm and pull him close to you. But you don't. He retreats back into his house. And you sit in the backyard. Popcorn peeks her head around the corner and stares at you, nudging her head against your leg before hopping into your lap.

 

You smooth down her fur and you feel overwhelmingly exhausted and sick. You wish you could disappear. You sit in the dark for a few more minutes before you leave the get together. You go out through the fence that leads to the front yard. Popcorn trails after you and you have to pick her up and put her back on the other side. Your stomach is in knots, and you feel bile in the back of your throat.

  
When you get to the end of Craig's driveway you stop and rest a hand on his garbage can. You hunch over and hurl onto the dirty snow. You think it's ugly, disgusting. You're breaking and there is nothing poetic about it. You're not snow fall. You're more the aftermath of snow. The brown, disgusting slushy mess that it leaves and no one likes.

 

You stand back up again you walk home, the streetlights guiding you. When you cross the train tracks you wearily push open your door and collapse on your bed. There is a bottle of cymbalta that they prescribed to you somewhere in your mess of a room. You haven't taken any of it, though.

 

You stare up at your ceiling and your head turns to your laptop next to you. You sit up and p and pull it towards you, opening it.

 

You're still a virgin, despite popular belief. You have girls throw themselves at you but you haven't settled for one. For some reason you jerk off with one person in mind. Big black eyes, soft tan skin.You imagine doing everything with them, and you waited. But you don't want to wait anymore. You feel so alone, fuck. You need to be wanted. You need to be needed. You open up a dating website that you heard of and put up a picture that you had taken of you a few weeks ago by Token.

 

The first girl who messages you complies to hooking up. So you pull your parka tighter around your frame, slip on your shoes and close the door behind you.

 

You walk, walk and walk to the edge of town where you wait for a bus that will take you where you need to go. You hop on, and pay your fare. You look out the window at the black cornfield passing by. You know they're corn field because you take this route all the time to North Park for doctors appointments.

 

When you arrive at your stop you pull down the yellow string and you step out into the dimly lit town. It's quiet in the streets. Almost eerie. You walk the empty road to the house number you scribbled down. 150 ashbyrn lane. You follow the directions until you're at the girls house. You knock on her window and she lets you in.

 

The rest is kind of blurry. She drinks and while you normally don't you do that night, just this once. It's a one time thing. The only time you ever do it again is at your graduation party years later. You're both drunk and she sloppily kisses you, straddling your lap.

 

*

 

You go home and the sky is orange and purple and greyish blue. You go through the front door and pulls the covers over your frame. You skip school that day. You're very cold, your nose and ears red from exposure to the biting wind. You warm up under your blankets. You can sleep forever and it feels like you do. You sleep and sleep and sleep.

 

The next day you skip, too. But you go back the day after. You don't brag about that night. You don't really feel like it's something to brag about.

 

You feel taken advantage of. You feel used. You don't do that again. At least not in your sophmore year. The number sits in your phone and you forget who the girl even is. If she were ever to text you, you'd be confused as to who she is.

 

You spend the summer in between alone. You isolate yourself. You don't leave your house. You sit in your room and go on tumblr, or you sleep. Craig tries calling a few times. But so does everyone else. A part of you knows you should leave the house but it's easier to stay in the dark of your room.

 

You feel alone, and you are. You made sure of it. You deserve it. Kevin works this summer. Karen spends all her time with Ruby. It's a true, deep, in your bones loneliness. You feel like you can't breathe. Like someone is sitting on your chest. You feel that needy, clawing out feeling inside of you again. You need someone to pretend to care. It's not until July when your hand is wrapped around your dick and you're thinking of big dark eyes that you go back to that hook up website.

 

You meet up with some guy and you go back to his house. He presses kisses to your mouth and pushes your legs apart, pushes in. It hurts. But you stare at the ceiling and let him fuck into you. You don't want it. But he wants _you_ in that moment. You feel needed. You feel validated. You don't cry. But you want to.

 

It continues on like that. You spend the rest of the summer fucking random guys. If you felt broken before, you feel even more so now. You liked the idea of sex. But now that your body is being used for it. And you're letting it happen. You want a cheap fix to deep seated problems. You keep going back because it fills a gap.

 

It's a week before school starts and you're laying under the covers when you hear a knock on your door. You don't respond to it. Just pretend you're dead.

 

“Kenny?” it's Karen and you turn around to look at her. It's weird. It feel like an eternity passed under these sheets. Her hair has gotten longer, and she's wearing makeup? You sit up and she takes a seat next to you.

 

“There is a play in town. Ruby and I really want you to go. Craig will be there.” she explains. And that's odd, you haven't really thought of Craig in awhile. He texts and calls you a lot. Just telling you the things he sees. He's a weird texter. Just stream of thoughts. You haven't touched your phone in months, though. It used to be a sore subject but you numbed yourself to it. Tried to drown it out.

 

“uh.” you start, you look at the tickets Karen put in your lap. Your eyes flick back up at her and she looks hopeful. You stare down at the paper again.

 

“Ok.” you say. She smiles and hugs you. It's oddly comforting, it's been awhile since someone has touched you and it hasn't been with sexual intent.

 

“It's in three hours. Get ready.” She lets go and retreats to the bathroom across the hall, closing the door behind her. And you do. You don't dress up, just throwing on a pair of jeans and a shirt for this band you like. 'Johnny Hobo and the Freight Trains.' When you're ready you and Karen put on your winter coats and walk to the Tucker residence.

 

It's Thomas who answers the door, and he squints at you.

 

“Haven't seen you around.” he says, and you try to smile but it comes out kind of lopsided and fake.

 

“Yeah.” you haven't really seen anyone. You and Karen go to sit in the living room and you feel your breath begin to become shallower as you take in the surroundings. Something about being here is making you uncomfortable. You have so many memories in the Tucker residence. You remember sitting on the floor and pushing in the tape for animals close up. Your eyes dart to the sliding screen door, and you remember sitting in Craig's lawn chairs as he would shoot down cans with his lasers for practice. You _miss_ it. And you feel even sicker when Craig and Ruby come down the stairs. His eyes fall on you, and you notice something weird. His dark brown eyes aren't...dark brown anymore. They're a little lighter, honey color.

 

He goes to stand right in front of you and waves a hand in front of your face.

 

“Earth to Kenny.” he says, nasal and bored sounding. You blink, your mouth parts and you notice that he's gained weight. The last time you guys hung out Craig was stick thin. You always look at his weight, just...to make sure. You were sure he wasn't eating at some point. But you kept your mouth shut about it. Not your battle.

 

You're shaking, and you turn around and dart for the door. You wait outside for them and they do follow. You all walk to the local theater. Ruby and Karen chat away about how they're excited to see the towns version of rent. You and Craig fall back and it's silent. You miss his light. Your eyes fall on his hands and you yearn to take them into yours.

 

When the four of you get there you take the very first seat. You intend to sleep through the production. You feel a wave of tiredness crash over your body. Your head hurts, you feel scared and you're quivering. You want to rest. However, Karen nudges you awake when the first act begins. You watch as the characters introduce themselves. And your lips press tightly together when you realize Tweek is Roger.

 

You don't know why, but this is what makes you cry. It's silent and repressed. You try to hold them back but they begin to roll down your cheeks. When the first act finally comes to an end you shoot up and run to the bathroom. The door slams shut behind you and you go to the nearest stall. You shakily lock it and fall to your knees in front of the toilet. It's disgusting, your head rested on the nasty seat as the dam breaks. You cry. You cry and cry and cry until your face is burning. It's heavily. Loud sobs escaping your lips and you can't stop it.

 

“Hey man, are you okay in there?” it's Tweek. It's fucking Tweek and you let out a sob. Your face is red and you're yanking on your hair.

 

“Fuck off!” you shout out. You stand and almost stumble to the ground. You unlock the stall and try your hardest not collapse.

 

“Aw jeez! Come out man, please. We can all hear you, it's okay.” and that frightens you more. No one can see you like this no one can no no one can see no one can no one can--

 

Your nails are digging into your flesh and your bleeding. You run them down the length of your arms in your panic, leaving ugly scratches

 

“Leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone leave me alone” you are shouting, pacing the length of the bathroom. The door opens and in comes the blond. Behind him you see Craig and can't do it you can't you can't you can't you can't

 

You fall to your knees and bury your face in your hands, you're crying hysterically, loud and ugly.

 

“I don't want to be here. Please I'm done I don't want to be here I don't want to exist I'm done I don't want to do this i'm done please take me away from here please” you repeat it over and over and over and you're bleeding and crying and crying and crying. There is noise around you and you're scared and it's loud and you're scared scared scared.

 

You hear some weird, electric noise and the door shutting. You look up and see blue. You see Craig and his lights are as powerful as ever. They curl around his whole body. Before he could only get it to his torso but now it curls around his legs. Your crying begins to subside and your breathing is still shallow, but you feel the warmth of the lights and it's comforting.

 

“Kenny.” Craig says. He holds his hand out to you and you take it. You let him help you up.

 

“My dad is here. We're taking you to the hospital.” is all he says. The blue lights curls around your torso and it's so warm, so safe and beautiful. You want to feel angry but you close you eyes and let Craig led the way.

 

You fall asleep and you wake up in a hospital room. It's the psychiatric part of it, where they evaluate you. A small, confined room. All white. You feel numbed. And you wonder what everyone thinks of you. If they all hate you.

 

You end up going to a different hospital than last time. But it's still in North Park.

 

“Kenny, we just want you to get help.” your mother says.

 

“Yeah, we all love you. Karen, Kevin, your mom and I.” Stuart says. You close your eyes and hold the phone to your ear.

 

“The Tucker boy's dad is bringing him and his sister to visit you, too. We can't make it tomorrow.”

 

You hang up and go to the day room, close your eyes and zone out what they're talking about in group.

 

The next day comes and visitation hours roll around faster than you would like. You're sitting in the cafeteria and it's Ruby you see first. She runs up to you and plops down in the chair next to you.

 

“Kenny.” she says. You don't know why she's so excited. You two weren't really friends.

 

“Ruby.” is all you say. She retreats a bit at that. Craig sits across from you and he shoos Ruby away so you two can talk. It's awkward and you look away from Craig, bitter.

 

“I know you're hurt.” he starts. Nasal, but not apathetic. There is emotion in that tone and it makes you look at him for a split second.

 

“I was a bad friend, ok? I was.” you weren't expecting that. Because you don't think it's true. You were the bad friend.

 

“I don't know what you are going through. I never even asked why we in the psychiatric hospital at the same time that one year. But...i know I can't fix you now. When we'd hold hands and my lasers would protect you I could tell it made you feel...better. I knew something was off, Kenny. I tried my hardest. I'm sorry I left.” you're looking at him now. And you're crying.

 

“But I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere. I felt so alone for years. But I started taking my meds. I started going to therapy. I started caring about myself, I started giving a fuck in general. And it was hard. I wanted my family to just notice, to just fucking care. To say anything. I wanted to just fucking end it and not have to deal with any of this.” he's looking down at his hands and his eyes are blue and those weird substitute tears are pouring from them.

 

“I love you.” he says, and he looks up at you when he says it. His eyes are electric blue. Shocking and bright. The lasers pour out and go towards Kenny, curling around him. Craig blinks, and they shut off, he opens his eyes again and they snap back into his head.

 

“My lasers love you too. It's weird. Just.” he grabs your hand and squeezes.

 

“You're not alone. But you have to get better. You have to do it for yourself. Not me, not Karen, not your mom and dad.” he looks at you.

 

“You're mysterion and you have a whole world to save.”

 

 

You can't take it and you gather Craig in your arms. He smells weird. Kind of like some ugly cologne or something. But you like it. You stroke down his hair and kiss his cheek. You feel hopeful.

 

“I love you.” you say, and you cup Craig's face. Your thumb gingerly runs against his flesh.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” he says. Patting your back.

 

“This is really gay. Uhg.” Craig says. You smile weakly. They leave and you still feel weighed down and tired. But the next day you talk to your doctor. You try to atleast.

 

“I'm scared.” you say. It's the most honest you've ever been.

 

“I don't really even know why.” you look down at your shoes. And you talk. You feel it kind of just let what can come out...come out. There are things you feel scared to say, and your doctor doesn't push. You just say what you can. He tells you he's going to put you on depekote, that it is going to take a long time to heal. It's not going to be easy to talk. It could take months, years, a lifetime. It's not just going to go away. You're going to have to learn to live with this illness and these thoughts and feelings. To cope. And that scares you. It horrifies you.

 

But you think about how you used to protect Karen and protect everyone and you had such a super hero complex and you had big dreams of saving people. It's not too late for that, is it? You know this isn't going to be easy but you have to try. You have to save yourself.

 

You get discharged on a monday. It's rainy and you're nervous. Your brother picks you up in a beaten down truck. You go home and it's quiet and it makes you feel sad. You lay under your covers and close your eyes.  
  
But instead of laying there, you sit up. You go into Karen room and you slip in a tape. You don't know what it is until you see puppies, close up, with wide angle lenses.

 

School is already in session and you go back the next day. You sit at the far end of your usual table with Stan and Kyle. You're by yourself, that is until Tweek sits next to you. You look at him and he looks at you. He grins and you smile weakly.

 

“Ah jeez. Kenny. I think we need to talk, man.” he says. He places his lunch bag down and you get ready to listen, taking a sip of your water.

 

“Listen, man...” Tweek starts he yanks a bit at his hair.

 

  
“I know you really don't like me. But I like you. And I hope you're okay, man! Aw jeez it was so much pressure the past few weeks. Craig and I were worried, man!” you feel a bit of jealousy come on and you guess it shows on your face because Tweek automatically jumps to defense.

 

“I don't like Craig that way!!!” he shouts, and ouch, loud enough?

 

“I think you and Craig belong together. I never liked him aw man I just!! rumors and shit! I'm dating Sally Turner!” he screeches and you don't know why, but you find it relieving. You looks down at your lunch.

 

“Craig and I aren't ready yet.” is all you say. Tweek shrugs, fidgeting.

  
*

 

It's a rocky road. There are a lot of tears and relapses and bad days. Days where you want to stop existing. Where you want to fucking die. But the days where you can smile, the days you succeed, the days you learn. Those are the days worth it. Sometimes it doesn't feel like it. And sometimes it doesn't feel worth it. But you're trying. Trying so fucking hard. Craig holds your hand a lot now. In private, in public. You both really aren't ready to date or anything.

 

But for now the blue light that never goes out is enough.

 


End file.
